


Magnificent Depravity

by LittleGirlMurder



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Ryou Bakura, Inspired By Tumblr, M/M, Mind Games, Ryou Bakura is Out for Revenge, Unhealthy Relationships, Yami Bakura is Intrigued, crossposted from ffn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26062711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleGirlMurder/pseuds/LittleGirlMurder
Summary: Ryou Bakura was no idiot and neither was he a weakling. Yami Bakura has to rethink his strategy. Dark!RB AU, Tendershipping.
Relationships: Bakura Ryou/Yami Bakura
Comments: 8
Kudos: 12





	1. The Devil Was Once An Angel Part One

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a tumblr post on this and just couldn't resist.  
> WARNING: May be OOC, since I have zero idea how to handle Yami Bakura.

There is a certain kind of beauty to human wickedness.

Humans commit the vilest of acts under the guise of righteousness. They separate themselves into a multitude of groups based on the tiniest of differences. They live and breathe sin, corruption and greed. Human lay waste to everything they touch, and glory in it. Humans _ruin._ And yet... There are still so many who live every day in hopes of making this world just a little bit better. So many who do genuine good, despite it all. There are those who are kind, and remain so, no matter what the world puts them through.

And then ... there are others. Those who struggle with the duality of human nature, who can be endlessly kind one minute, yet turn horribly _cruel_ the next. Those types are perhaps the worst of all. They're the ones you should be the most careful about. Most vile specimens of humanity at least have the decency to remain consistent. When someone puts on a mask of affability, or worse, remains both cruel and kind at the same time...

Humans are so wondrously _complicated,_ in all their magnificent depravity.

* * *

Ever since he was little, Ryou Bakura had adored things most others found creepy. Things that would give most others screaming nightmares for months appealed to him.

Once, he and Amane had secretly watched a horror movie, the one they had heard the older kids at school raving about. Amane had been terrified the whole time, clamping her hands over her ears and eyes tightly shut. Ryou, on the other hand, was _enthralled._ He stayed and watched till the very end. Amane ran out sobbing halfway through. For many nights afterwards, she woke up screaming that huge, bug-eyed, slime monsters were coming to eat her. She never watched another horror movie as long as she lived. Ryou watched many, many more.

The point remains that, Ryou was never an ordinary child. Over the years, his fascination with the creepy only grew. It eventually became something of an obsession. As he spent all of his days alone, he had plenty of free time to dedicate to this hobby. Various supernatural occurrences, the occult, possessions and, of course, ghosts. It was his refuge, just as much as games were. Ryou had researched and Ryou had learned and Ryou had remembered. Which was why he was not at all surprised to learn that an evil spirit was trapped within the Millennium Ring.

He had suspected for a long, long time.

Whenever he befriended someone, something bad happened to them. Whenever someone actively _harmed_ him, or tried to, something even _worse_ happened.

He had begun having blackouts, large stretches of time which simply evaporated, leaving him in a different place than the one he last remembered.

Those things coincided too well, too perfectly, for it to be a mere coincidence.

Ryou Bakura was a great many things. He was a lover of all that was creepy or supernatural in nature. He was a big fan of role playing games. He was saddled with a father who was absent and a mother and sister who were dead. He was a very pretty, very broken boy. He was kind and quiet and polite. He was also not an idiot.

So yes, he had suspected that something was terribly wrong for quite a long time. Long before meeting Yugi and his friends. But once he _did,_ things started to move at a rapid pace. Ryou had made friends once again at a new school, once again they played a game together. Except this time, things were different. This time, things finally began to make sense. The Millennium Items, the spirit residing within his own, the dark games they played, and their outcomes. Everything was so much more complicated than he had first thought.

In some ways, it was like a story in one of those Hollywood movies. Or a horror manga. The thought was both amusing and slightly horrifying in its implications. Nevertheless, he knew enough to recognise what he saw. If one could detach themselves from a situation and analyse with a clear head, things that seemed daunting and terrifying became simple. If he worked himself into a state, the whole situation would seem even worse than it actually was.

Ryou looked, Ryou remembered and Ryou realised.

Once both had become aware of each other and a connection was established between their souls, the boy had become hyper-aware of the second soul residing so very close to his own, every second of every day. Perhaps the most frightening thing was just how _familiar_ that felt. He had never noticed before, but now that he _had,_ it was impossible not to notice. The two of them were tied together. The spirit was the stronger one between them, certainly, what with the magic and the extra three thousand years of existence. But he was the one still alive: and that gave him a certain degree of control.

Ryou Bakura was not about to let himself be used against his will. It was _his_ life, _his_ body, and he had had enough of letting the dead decide for him. If the spirit wanted to take over his body by force, fine. He would just have to wait and strike back even harder. Despite what the spirit may think, there were options.

And so, Ryou sacrificed himself and the Spirit of the Ring _lost_.

You would think that he would be scared, terrified. You would think that after this kind of experience, Ryou would toss the Ring as far away as he could and never let it come near him again. You would think he was weak for not doing so.

You would think wrong.


	2. The Devil Was Once An Angel Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Dark!RB and AU really come into play here.  
> WARNING: Mentions of murder.

When Ryou was very young, his mother and sister were murdered. The memory of that horrible, awful night was still fresh in his mind. As if it had happened only yesterday...

* * *

_They were having dinner when someone knocked on the door. When his mother took a look in the peephole, she paled suddenly and grew very, very still. Ryou and Amane had immediately noticed how tense she was. Frowning, Ryou looked at his mother. She was standing by the door, not moving an inch. Amane clutched her favourite toy close to her chest._

_'Mummy? What's wrong?'_

_'Ryou. Amane.' Their mother said calmly and steadily. 'Go to the closet in the back. Hide there. Hide, and stay absolutely silent. Do you understand me?'_

_The two children trembled, but nodded. Ryou pulled his sister away in a rush. Her arms were still at her sides, clenched into fists._

_They crept through their home, pale and shaking. Amane's hand was hot and clammy in his own. His heart thundered in his chest, so loudly he worried that it could be heard. Eventually, after what seemed like forever, stretching and looping in his mind, they came to a stop. The closet was big, the door melding into the wall so well that was it almost it practically unnoticeable._

_But when Ryou tugged open the door and tucked himself inside, Amane did not follow._

_Ryou frowned at her. His sister glared back._

_'Mummy said-'_

_'I left him back there. I need to go back for him.' Amane insisted._

_That was when Ryou understood. Amane's favourite toy. She never went anywhere without it. He huffed and rolled his eyes, distracted._

_'Come back quickly,' he said._

_Amane nodded once, then left. She never came back._

* * *

Ryou had long since lost count of the amount of times he thought back on that day. On what he would have done differently. Those thoughts taunted him, mocked him, echoed endlessly in his head. Some days, he cursed himself for being so stupid. Most others, he cursed those _bastards,_ who took everything from him and had the nerve to laugh about it.

The possibilities of the future shifted. A different future, a different path, was erased. Slowly, gradually, before he even knew it, Ryou changed. And the millennia-long game he had been embroiled in since birth changed with him.

* * *

_Ryou hid in the cramped, dark closet, alone and scared. Voices, men's voices, loud and angry. Other voices, pleading and sobbing. Tears ran down the boy's face, as he sat with, thin, pale arms hugging his knees to his chest. Images of his mother and sister rushed through his head, each possibility more vivid and more terrible than the last._

_Ryou was_ scared _. He didn't like being scared._

_Something hard and square poked into his side. Something soft and slippery brushed against his neck. The boy shivered and shook like a leaf in the autumn wind. Wide, anxious eyes peered into the darkness of his hiding place. The voices got louder and more angry. There was a sudden, earth-shakingly loud THUMP._

_That was when the screams started._


	3. The Devil Was Once An Angel Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I accidentally made this into a Dark!Genius!Ryou AU...

When he was a child, Ryou had been given the Millennium Ring. The Ring had vehemently rejected anyone else who dared to touch it, but for some inexplicable reason, Ryou was drawn to it. He had been too small at the time to take much notice, only knowing that this strange, golden item was pretty, and _his._ It belonged to him. This knowledge was as intrinsic, as natural as the fact that the sky was blue or that water was wet, or that he needed air to breathe. It felt _right,_ somehow. In a way that he wouldn't fully understand until years and years later.

The knowledge that there was someone else who shared his body had not made his skin crawl. It had not scared him in the slightest. The complete opposite: it pissed the whitette off royally. Knowing that some complete stranger periodically took over _his_ body and used it for god-knows-what? Was _infuriating._

Good thing Ryou knew how to be patient. They would meet eventually, he was sure. And then...

* * *

There was one thing the spirit had failed to take into account when it came to Ryou Bakura. Several things, actually.

_(who knew this host of his would be so interesting?)_

The first was that Ryou had plenty of plans of his own. He had A Plan _._ One that would come to fruition very, very soon. It had taken years of gathering a hoard of secrets, plenty of subtle manipulations and an intellect far beyond a normal child's. One brought about by pain and half remembered shades of a past that did not belong to him. That part had been surprising enough by itself, to both of them, but there was still more.

The second thing he had failed to take into account when it came to his host was his willpower. Ryou, after being shaped by pain, after hearing his mother's screams as she was murdered, after seeing his younger sister's dead, glassy-eyed body... Ryou _changed._ He was not the same child who'd come into possession of the Millennium Ring, not anymore. Maybe he never had been.

The spirit rifled through his host's memories as he lay sleeping. He hadn't bothered much before. What could possibly be that riveting in the memories of an ordinary teen? He had mostly skimmed through the surface level, sure that he wasn't missing much. Only ever learning just enough to blend in as his "landlord" when he was in control of the body.

There was nothing he regretted more now.

* * *

Spirit and host had at last faced off against each other. Both souls were finally tied, as they should have been from the beginning. The issue before had been that neither side was awake and aware while the other was. But it would be soon be time for one Ryou Bakura and the Spirit of the millennium ring to meet...


	4. The Devil Was Once An Angel Part Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Japanese honorific "san" basically means "Mr. or Miss or Mrs." in English. This chapter is mostly to establish why Ryou's so different in this AU, as well as to introduce the main villain of this fic.

Ryou had still been kneeling among his mother's and sister's cooling corpses when he met Wilde-san.

* * *

_Ryou had stumbled into the room once the men had gone. Pale and trembling, the boy collapsed onto his knees beside the still-fresh corpses of his mother and sister. He hugged himself and rocked back and forth, as his whole body shook with violent sobs._

_He didn't know how long he simply stayed there, sobbing, before:_

_'Well, well, would you look at that.'_

_Ryou whipped around, tears still trailing down his face, eyes puffy and red from crying._

_A man was leaning against the doorway, tall and broad shouldered, brown hair peeking out from underneath a hat that shadowed his face._

_'Who- who are you?' Ryou asked, despising the way his voice sounded. So meek, so scared. A weak, pathetic child._

_'My name is Jonathan Wilde, kid,' the man said, smirk growing wider._

_A flash of recognition, lit up the boy's face before he could hide it. Ryou gulped, not bothering to hide his fear._

_'W-what are you... what are you doing here, Wilde-san?'_

_Wilde-san's shark-like smirk grew wider._

_'Making an investment.'_

* * *

Ryou Bakura walked into his kitchen, eyes bleary. He stretched, stifling a yawn. He stood barefoot in the middle of his kitchen, blinking the sleep away from his eyes. As soon as he was awake enough, Ryou opened the fridge, took out a couple of eggs and some butter and got started making himself breakfast. The eggs sizzled in the pan, gradually growing fluffy and white. Ryou glared at the eggs, as if willing them to be done already. A telltale growl sounded from his stomach.

When the eggs were finally done, Ryou hurriedly shoved them onto a plate and sat down at the table, spearing a fork into the food. Just as he was raising it to his mouth, however...

The phone he'd left on the table rung briefly. Frowning, Ryou, put the fork down and hurriedly swiped at the phone.

TO: BAKURA

FROM: WILDE

* * *

Ryou had never hated anyone the way he hated Wilde-san. He'd never needed to, not before that day. But that man was almost as bad as the bastards who ruined his life. Wilde-san may not have murdered his mother and sister himself, but he'd swept in afterwards like a vulture, seeking to benefit as much as he could. Thus ruining any chance Ryou had of ever returning to a normal life.

It was Wilde-san that had killed the person Ryou Bakura used to be, with his own two hands. Tortured and threatened and mocked the child till he cried himself to sleep every night. Turned three entire years of his life into a living nightmare. And for _what?_

"Investment"?

Profit?

Money?

Well, whatever it was, Ryou hoped he'd enjoyed while it had lasted. (Actually, no he didn't. That bastard could and _would_ burn in Hell, if Ryou had anything to say about it.) Because once he was done with him...

* * *

The whitette ground his teeth, hands clenching into fists. An odd expression flitted over his face, gone as quickly as it had appeared. He forced himself to take a deep breath.

In. Out.

In. Out.

Out. In.

Out. In.

Smiling serenely, Ryou lifted the phone.


	5. Razor's Edge Part One

'Hello, Wilde-san.' Ryou said serenely, forcing down the anger bubbling beneath the surface. He gripped the edge of the table as he spoke into the phone. 'It's been a while since you last contacted me, so I had thought perhaps you dropped off the face of the earth. Imagine my surprise when I got an email notification.'

The... _person..._ on the other end scoffed. Ryou's hand clenched on the table's edge.

'Don't give me that. I already know what happened.'

'Whatever do you mean?' Ryou said in mock-surprise, body tensing. If Wilde had even an inkling of suspicion-

'There's been another incident. At your school this time.'

Ryou frowned.

'What-'

'That was you wasn't it? The gym teacher.'

He supressed a relieved sigh, the tension in his muscles fading away.

So the bastard still had no idea. This was the first time he had ever been relieved for the dark spirit and his periodical blackouts. It gave him a way to throw Wilde off his trail, if nothing else. After all, whatever the spirit's plans were, he doubted they would ever cross with his own.

_Just a little more time..._

'I have zero clue what you're talking about,' he announced cheerfully down the phone. '-but that's all you wanted to talk about, I have school today-'

'Hold on a minute.'

* * *

Ryou had long since perfected the art of looking like he was listening when in reality, he was lost in his own thoughts. That particular skill came in very handy that day, as the teacher droned on about musical theory, or whatever other pointless subject he was forced to listen to. And after his morning conversation with Wilde, Ryou had much more important things to be thinking about than class.

Such as the incredibly precarious situation he had found himself in.

Outmanoeuvring the man who had taught him everything he knew about manipulation was in itself, a risky move. Risky, but not impossible. After all, Jonathan Wilde was not the _only_ person who taught Ryou for those three hellish years. No, far from it. But the man was insufferably arrogant and entitled; those qualities would be his downfall.

That was what he had thought.

Then the email came and threw everything into question.

Was it possible that Wilde had known Ryou's plans all along? Had he merely been testing him? Was there nothing more to the end of that phone call?

Doubts and paranoia plagued the whitette all throughout the day. He spent practically all of it deep in thought, only barely responding to his teachers or his friends. By the end he had managed to thoroughly confuse himself on the matter. Maybe he was just reading too much into things, or maybe the paranoia was justified. Whichever it was, Ryou didn't know anymore.

With a heavy sigh, Ryou waved his friends goodbye and headed in the direction of his apartment.

He took the long route back, needing some more time to think things through before he had to face the bleak emptiness of his apartment once again. By the time he heaved himself up the stairs and through the door, it was already night. Ryou leaned on the closed apartment door wearily, eyes closed. Somehow, the cold, empty apartment managed to seem bigger and more empty each and every time he came back to it after a long, exhausting day at school.

Oh well. It wasn't like he wasn't used to it by now.

Ryou pulled himself out of his gloomy musings with a shake of his head. First, dinner. Then he would figure out what to do about Wilde. _(And maybe a plateful of hot food would cheer him up.)_

As busy as he was with food and his own thoughts, he could perhaps be forgiven for not noticing the eerie glow of the millennium ring...


	6. Razor's Edge Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here at last is the actual first meeting.

The spirit of the millennium ring, also known as Yami Bakura, had never been so surprised by something in his life. All several thousand years of it.

Or, at least, he didn't _remember_ being so surprised before.

The point was that this host had turned out to be an unusually interesting one. He had certainly not expected Ryou Bakura to have such a strong will, or the motivations that he did. It had completely blindsided him when the boy had put up such a violent resistance to being taken over. Even more of a shock was that he had actually _succeeded_. Skimming over those memories had been the biggest blunder he had made in a while, topped only by what a huge mistake it had been to underestimate Ryou Bakura.

Leaning against the kitchen doorway in his noncorporeal form, the spirit casually waited for the white haired boy to his notice his presence. It didn't take long.

Whipping around to look directly at him, Ryou paled a few shades, before quickly getting his expression back under control.

'So. It's you again,' he said quietly.

For a moment, the two only observed each other.

'What are you doing here?' Ryou asked after a tension filled silence.

The spirit shrugged.

'What, is it a crime to want to check on my landlord?'

Ryou scoffed and looked away.

'Your entire existence is a crime.'

Neither of them said very much after that. Ryou chose to focus on preparing, and then eating, his meal rather than on the literal ghost in his kitchen. After such a painfully long day of agonizing over that one conversation, his mind just wasn't up to concentrating on more than one thing at a time. As for the spirit, well, he mostly just observed Ryou, an unreadable look on his face.

* * *

There wasn't much talking during those first few meetings. Neither was there any sort of antagonism. In fact, they seemed to have a rather odd truce of sorts. Ryou went to school and back, met up with his friends and generally lived a normal teenager's life during the day. When the evening came, he puzzled out the meaning of Wilde's words and agonised for hours over the details of his plan. Everything had to go perfectly after all.

Sometimes the spirit came in person and watched him like he was a particularly interesting exhibit at a museum. (An odd comparison to say the least, considering who was the actual dark spirit haunting an ancient cursed artefact.)

Other times, he could feel an odd presence in the back of his mind. Just skirting the edges of Ryou's awareness...

These encounters were filled with nothing but frustrating remarks and dead-end, stone-wall, silence.

No attempts to take over his body.

No threats.

Nothing but silence.

And it was driving Ryou _mad._

What was the spirit playing at? What was the point of all that observation? Ryou's mind, trained by those three endless, hellish years, cranked out worst-case scenario after worst-case scenario. He felt as if he was living on a razor's edge, constantly in danger of tipping over. There only so much of this tension he could take. He had to do _something._

Maybe it was finally time to put his plan into action.


End file.
